


Waking Up......

by elainefr



Category: Daria - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7367398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainefr/pseuds/elainefr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I own none of these characters, but I sure do love writing about them. This is kind of Snow White/Lane perspective on the thought that there are certain people that are destined to be in each others lives somehow. Please submit all reviews, they are greatly appreciated and as always I hope you enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up......

"Tell me again why I am wasting a perfectly good Saturday afternoon in a dusty old attic," Jane asked her brother.

"Uncle Max and Aunt Sharon, remember?" Trent supplied.

Jane did remember and that made her hurry with the rummaging. Apparently their only seen at awkward and sometimes painful family reunions were in need of some old family albums that their parents had stowed away in the basement and Jane and Trent were supposed to find it in the very messy attic.

"Jane?" Daria's voice came from downstairs.

"Up here," Jane called down. "I called in reinforcements to help us out."

Daria appeared moments later carrying a bag that contained refreshments and sandwiches.

"Hey Daria," Trent greeted her and cleared a spot for her to sit on a nearby trunk. "Have a seat, if you dare."

"Hey," Daria handed Trent a drink and sandwich and then did the same for Jane.

"So Daria, you enjoying your summer away from college?" Trent asked before taking a bite of the sandwich.

"Well Lawndale wasn't my first choice, but since Paris was out and The Pizza King is still around, I'll concede that it's not too awful." Daria replied in her usual deadpan manner.

"As you can see, we are undergoing a very important excavation here. There are some very important images captured by light that require excavation from this ancient dwelling," Jane explained in grand fashion as she gestured to the magnitude of it all.

"So you're looking for some old pictures?" Daria rephrased.

"If you must simplify things." Jane said between bites. "We were hoping to find it before Max-Ron the morons gets here." Jane said with a touch of animosity in her voice.

"Our Uncle Max and Aunt Sharon," Trent said to Daria's raised brow.

Daria remembered Jane telling her how their Uncle Max always seemed to corner and consequently belittle Trent at every reunion by calling him a 'bum'. It had really gotten to him that year when she had caught a ride to her Camp's reunion, at her folk's insistence. He hadn't even gone to the last one. Amazingly, he had told the folks, when they'd called that he'd been asleep and they were okay with things.

"What pictures are they?"

"Their first wedding. They're planning on renewing their vows and doing something with the old photos," Jane explained. "It would be very sweet if it were just about anyone else. She wiped her hands and took a long drink from her water bottle, before starting to look through some nearby boxes.

"So…..what's on your agenda for the summer Daria; aside from this fun," Trent gestured to attic.

Daria found that she wasn't quite as hungry as she originally thought and put her sandwich back in the wrapper.

"As little as possible if it's up to me, but my mother is insisting that I help out at her office. I think she hoping that I'll following in her power heeled footsteps." Daria stated in her normal fashion.

"Fat chance of that," Jane commented, followed by "Ah, ha!"

"I take it by the Eureka cry that you found what you were looking for?" Daria question.

Jane peeked over the large book, "You're damned right!"

Daria and Trent went to gather around where Jane was now sitting on the floor.

"Cool, Janey," He looked at the pictures of relatives that he'd never met, and yet many seemed very familiar. "Wow, she looks just like you Jane."

"Yeah, she even has a vintage version of your hairdo," Daria mused softly.

(v/o) Who does she think she is, Quinn, Jane thought to herself.

"Mm…." she turned the page and old, worn papers scattered out.

Daria scooped them up and arranged them in order. They were written on front and back with varying small sketches throughout.

"Look, here's Max-Ron." Jane held up the picture for them all to see.

They hadn't changed more than what time had done to them.

"I think these are some recorded history of your family," Daria viewed the papers closer.

"Well let's take 'em downstairs and say adios to the ol' attic here," was Jane's welcome suggestion, to which they all agreed and left together.

After everyone had gotten settled in the den where the normal had a harmoniously infused roundtable of Sick, Sad, World, it was decided that Daria would read from the papers, while Jane had decided to eat half of Daria's uneaten sandwich and Trent lounged in his normal relaxed way near her on the couch. Daria began to read from the first page:

I grow weary from constant travel trying to find a cure for my child. The fairness of her lovely skin has turned ashen in paleness and the naturally rose red lips are tinged with blue. The only vestige of her former self that remains is her flaxen black hair, for even in illness it has lost none of its sheen. She lapses into sleeps for unparalleled amounts of time. My wife is beside herself with worry on this. Sometimes I find her sitting at the child's bedside as she sleeps, watching to make sure that the child doesn't slip away from us. We have tried every remedy suggested and I fear for my lovely daughter.

I was at my lowest yesterday and I yearn for my family. I sat in the corner of the local tavern and decided to lose myself in the ale. Though, ale can be a tricky thing with me, I tend to say things in candor that might best be left unsaid. I heard some of the locals speaking of someone that might be able to help my daughter. It seems, and don't laugh, that this woman is a healer of sorts. Sometimes she can help and since I am out of options, I will pay her a visit tomorrow.

High spirits I am in, for my visit with the sorceress Quinten. She is an odd one, but I have a good feeling about her. Funny thing, she seemed to know all about this illness and when I asked her how she knew, she said that I should read up on history – whatever that means. We're traveling back as soon as she is done packing.

Quinten examined our daughter and to our surprise, she said that there was nothing wrong with her. She told us that the problem was from something that happened to our family a very long time ago. Apparently there is a great, great, great, great (I forget how many) grandmother on my side of the family that fell under the wrath of someone that meant to do her great harm. She was poisoned, but eventually she was healed, though not completely. When she slept, she slept so soundly that she was thought to have left this world on more than one occasion. There is no true 'cure' for it, but there have been cases were it left completely and some where it was lived with. The cases where it left completely varied in what happened, but from what Quinten said, there was documentation from her ancestors that said one person started sleeping regularly after tripping and having a tumble, another person started a normal sleep routine after almost choking and a friend slapped the lodged item from her throat, and another person had awaken from a three day slumber, from a kiss given to her by her childhood sweetheart. I am not sure how anything of those things can help, but I feel that I can trust Quinten, so I shall.

She opened her eyes and smiled at me! My little girl! She played with her mother all day and they cooked, and she didn't even nap. We stood watching her as she drifted into sleep, we were both fearful, but there was no denying that something significant had happened. Quinten had asked us to simply do whatever it was on a daily basis before the illness had taken such a firm hold. We had breakfast and lunch in her room while talking to her as though she were wide awake and with us. Then, at dinner when I was telling her how delicious the potatoes that her mother had cooked were, we heard her voice. She said that she wanted to try them. We were elated. Quinten had watched the whole scene without parting a lip, only making notes in her ever present book. We are in high spirits indeed.

Quinten departs today and with her our well wishes and eternal gratitude. She said that no gratuity was needed from my household for the service that she provided, but she did insist that I learn more of my family's history on both sides. She knew as much as she did from the scores of books written by the people in her family on all that they did. When I inquired as to why she wouldn't take payment from me, she informed me that 'no payment shall ever be taken from our house to hers' our families have taken care of each other for generations and though she and I had only met a short time ago, I felt this to be a truth.

We received an invitation to a wedding today. Quinten is to wed a young fellow named Wilhelm. She wants us to bring our little one, for she wants her to throw the flowers. My wife is so excited that she and our little Harriett have been talking about it ever since. When I look at them, I feel forever blessed that we didn't befall the same misfortune that some of my ancestors did. I did go through some items, journals and drawings that were passed down and discovered that the great, great, great, great, or whatever, grandmother of mine was a woman of beauty that no one had seen the likes of before. Her mother had died giving birth and it was her stepmother that wanted to inflict pain and eventually death upon her. She was the one that poisoned her. The rest was as Quinten had said, with varying versions and 'cures' for the dammed able illness. The more common of them was of course, the romanticized kiss. I'm not sure of its authenticity, but I believe love made a difference for us. I look forward to the blessed event.

Quinten was a lovely bride and Wilhelm was a very proud groom. They will most surely have a wonderful life together. She and my wife have grown to be quite the companions and correspond often. Quinten and Wilhelm have confided in us that they are with child. They are both looking forward to it, 'warts and all' as Quinten put it. What an odd expression, but very much her. Since it seems that we are a bit of a quartet, we have made plans to attend some events together, as aforementioned pregnancy permits. The first will be a reading of some of Wilhelm's works and the next will be them coming to see my standing performance for the royals, though truth be told my little one is a much better hand at it than I.

Daria looked at the brother and sister duo that had come to mean so much to her.

"Well, that's the last of that, but there was probably more."

"At least we know why Trent sleeps like the dead," Jane supplied as she watched her friends expression as she studied the papers still in her hand.

"Mm…." Daria handed the papers to Jane gingerly. "You should probably spend some time organizing that stuff and putting these somewhere safe."

"Are you kidding me? I'd rather brave the Bermuda Triangle than sort that dusty mess, besides we have a system. Put it there, it stays there til it's needed," Jane supplied with a nonchalant air. "So about how much of that do you believe and how much was from some 'herbal medications'?"

"Well they did something that worked, how else did the kid recover?"

"Okay, let's test it. Kiss him," Jane nodded to the dozing Trent. "They said that a kiss would do it, so kiss him."

"Shut up!" Daria said in a loud-ish hushed tone.

Jane smirked at Daria's discomfort. College or not Daria still had a thing for Trent and Jane doubted that would ever change. Oh she could put distance and other people between them, but the basics would always be there.

"I am going to go get some of the dust of the attic off of me with a quick shower if you don't mind." Jane announced stretched her length before standing and throwing over her shoulder. "…..if you were to say trip and fall on my brothers lips, I would never know."

Daria smiled to herself at her friends relentless teasing/tormenting of her and in true form her eyes drifted over to study the beautifully sleeping Trent. The knocking at the front door made her jump, but Trent didn't even flinch. She sighed and went to answer it.

"You're not which one of Amanda's kids are you?" the craggily old man standing before asked in rude fashion.

"None, I'm Esmerelda, the keeper of this estate," Daria deadpanned.

"They're supposed to have some pictures for me and my old lady here," he gestured to the car where Daria saw an elderly woman with a large hat sitting in the passenger side.

"Ah yes, you must be their Uncle Moron's," Daria deadpanned again with such innocence that it appeared to be a mispronunciation….. at first.

"That's Max, short for Maximillian." He seemed proud as he spoke for some reason.

"Just a sec," Daria went to retrieve the photos from the table where Jane had placed them. When she turned to go back, she noticed that Max had entered the home a few steps.

"I see not much has changed here," there was clear disdain in his voice, "and Trent is exactly where he will always be in life, a bum, sleeping, doing nothing, and going nowhere," he laughed then and looked at her as though he expected her to join in agreement.

"Well, that's where you're wrong Moron-a-million. I could see where someone like you might think the way that you do, but the rest us in the real world can see clearly." She had said this while looking at Trent, but now turned her full attention on the man before her. "Trent took on the role of parent, provider, and support system for his younger sister, all while trying to grow up himself. Those things he did without complaint. He also managed to be a cool older brother and wonderful friend." As she spoke she walked toward the older man as he backed out of the house. "Now you come here and have the nerve to call him a bum? You are the only person that I see of poor quality. If you were half the man that Trent is….." she didn't get to finish. Max turned and left. She leaned against the frame of the doorway and watched them drive off.

(v/o) I hope I don't get Trent and Jane in trouble for that.

"Thanks, Daria," Trent's voice came from just behind her.

She turned and they would have be face to face if she were taller, but as it were they were her face to his chest. She tilted her head back to look at him. Even after waking he looked on the edge of sleeps door.

"Anytime." The moment was right, she thought, but her old pal fear always snuck from the recesses of her mind and yet… The kiss was a surprise even though she had initiated it. She didn't know if she had surprised him, herself or both. After the split second of surprise, it softened and became an expression to something that neither could put a name to. The questions that each had would have to wait; they both wanted to savor the purity of what had happened. His hand touched the side of her face with a gentleness that was in opposition to the callous on the tips of his fingers. She traced the outline of his face wanting to remember every feature.

"Sick, Sad, World anyone?" Jane's voice interrupted as she came in the room.

Trent and Daria pulled apart and though she didn't see anything, Jane could feel the change in the air.

"What's going on? Where are you guys going?"

"Uncle Max came by for the photos. Daria took care of him," Trent said around a smirk.

Daria came in and shut the door behind her.

"I've gotta get a shower in before practice," Trent strolled away after giving Daria a quick reassuring glance.

Daria sat in her spot and listened as Jane prattled on giving commentary on the show.

Trent stood in the bathroom looking at his reflection in the mirror. That kiss was pretty incredible, but it was more. He could feel it in the core of who he was. He felt like he was seeing things more clearly for the first time, well not exactly he had a similar feeling when he'd kissed her on the cheek, but that was nothing like now. He felt alert and ready, as though he could accomplish anything. It was like waking up…..


End file.
